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"You are too late, Djor Kantos," she cried in mock anger. "No laggard may claim

Tara of Helium; but haste now lest thou lose also Olvia Marthis, whom I have

never seen wait long to be claimed for this or any other dance."

"I have already lost her," admitted Djor Kantos ruefully.

"And you mean to say that you came for Tara of Helium only after having lost

Olvia Marthis?" demanded the girl, still simulating displeasure.

"Oh, Tara of Helium, you know better than that," insisted the young man. "Was it

not natural that I should assume that you would expect me, who alone has

claimed you for the Dance of Barsoom for at least twelve times past?"

"And sit and play with my thumbs until you saw fit to come for me?" she

questioned. "Ah, no, Djor Kantos; Tara of Helium is for no laggard," and she

threw him a sweet smile and passed on toward the assembling dancers with

Gahan, Jed of far Gathol.

The Dance of Barsoom bears a relation similar to the more formal dancing

functions of Mars that The Grand March does to ours, though it is infinitely more

intricate and more beautiful. Before a Martian youth of either sex may attend an

important social function where there is dancing, he must have become proficient

in at least three dances--The Dance of Barsoom, his national dance, and the

dance of his city. In these three dances the dancers furnish their own music,

which never varies; nor do the steps or figures vary, having been handed down

from time immemorial. All Barsoomian dances are stately and beautiful, but The

Dance of Barsoom is a wondrous epic of motion and harmony--there is no

grotesque posturing, no vulgar or suggestive movements. It has been described as

the interpretation of the highest ideals of a world that aspired to grace and beauty

and chastity in woman, and strength and dignity and loyalty in man.

Today, John Carter, Warlord of Mars, with Dejah Thoris, his mate, led in the

dancing, and if there was another couple that vied with them in possession of the

silent admiration of the guests it was the resplendent Jed of Gathol and his

beautiful partner. In the ever-changing figures of the dance the man found

himself now with the girl's hand in his and again with an arm about the lithe

body that the jeweled harness but inadequately covered, and the girl, though she

had danced a thousand dances in the past, realized for the first time the personal

contact of a man's arm against her naked flesh. It troubled her that she should

notice it, and she looked up questioningly and almost with displeasure at the

man as though it was his fault. Their eyes met and she saw in his that which she

had never seen in the eyes of Djor Kantos. It was at the very end of the dance and

The Chessmen of Mars